garrison beau scott

What a night this was. I had just crossed the States on a bus for what would be my 2nd Greyhound trip. Winter 1996. The entire scheme hatched to get me from California to Philadelphia in time for a pair of Phish shows at the Spectrum. And of all things I run across my friend Gus in the parking lot. That Gus, he’s a fun guy. Anyways…the show melted my face and all the surrounding snow, as evident by the conspicuous lack of any of the frozen stuff on the ground.

I don’t know what the percentages are in the argument over wether or not these guys should just pick up their instruments and re-take over the world of “jam band” but for what it’s worth, I vote a resounding yes. Looking through some of the set lists I faithfully compiled over the years while attending my fair share of shows, I can’t help but think that a second set that looks like this….

David Bowie
A Day in the Life
Bathtub Gin >
Lizards
*You Enjoy Myself >
16 Candles >
You Enjoy Myself >
Vocal Jam >
Harpua >
#Champagne Supernova >
Harpua

and a Rocky Top encore

…would just have a little positive effect on mankind as a whole. Don’t you think? Besides, I’ve yet to find anything remotely as good as a parking lot gooey ball since they shut down shop a few years back.

*instrument switch
#Tom Marshall on vocals

I had the amazing opportunity to work for Michael Kenna during 2001 and 2002. He was definitely not the photographer mentioned in the earlier post. As beautiful as his images are, they’re nothing compared to the man who takes them. Michael is an amazing person and if you subscribe to the adage that good things happen to good people, Michael is the only proof you’ll need to state your case.

I mostly worked on Michael’s prints, getting them ready for sale or exhibition. Michael does all his own printing. And it is his fine art black and white prints that have brought him world wide recognition. And I can’t say this enough, deservedly so.

But occasionally, Michael has been know to take on a commercial job, mostly for the auto industry. And as it so happened, he was doing a job for Mercedes-Benz and needed a second assistant. Here’s where the story gets better, his first assistant was one of my dearest and closest friends, Rolfe Horn. So I’m working with Rolfe for Michael shooting a Benz out in the middle of the Tehachapi Desert. One day we finish pretty early and Rolfe makes the suggestion we take the cameras out and take some of our own images. I was all in until I remembered I left my camera bag back at the hotel.

Michael reaches into his camera bag, pulls out one of his Hassey’s and says, “Need some film?”

This was taken that night, with Michael’s camera.

San Francisco is an amazing city. Unless you’re looking for a parking spot. I didn’t live in the city, so I didn’t have to endure the sometimes endless search for a place to put my car on a daily basis, but I did go into the city enough to develop a real disdain for driving there.

Fortunately, San Francisco, much like NYC, is a town you can get to, and around in, without a car. And as a photographer who likes to walk, and walk, and walk, well a car only gets in the way. When this was taken, sometime in 2000, I was living in Marin, which is north of the Golden Gate. There are two options for mass transit for getting into S.F. One is the bus, which takes forever, and the other is the ferry. Which is a 45 minute bit of heaven. Awesome views, wind in your face observation decks, warm and toasty inside seating, AND they serve beer and wine.

Suffice to say, I took the ferry. Which is how and why I got this shot. After a day in the city, I was on my way back to catch the boat home, walking up Market Street. The building in the lower left is the clock tower at the Ferry Building, and the spotlights that run up the center originate at The Embarcadero.

Yes, they’re back, shots from a parking lot. Digital. I know, it’s just, well, I kind of like these. And they’re already scanned as they’re, well, digital.

I feel like Frank the Tank in “Old School” having promised his wife no beer, and then someone offers him a beer bong and next thing you know…naked.

You can bet I’m not getting naked, but it still feels dirty some how…digital.

Once it hits the lips…

By the way, this is the one image that sparked this whole series to begin with, so blame it on these pixels, okay?

Maybe it’s all the candy…yes, I’ll blame it on the crash that follows Halloween. Halloween and all that high fructose corn syrup I’ve been wolfing down is the reason.

Blame it on the poison that there’s another shot of the parking structure for today’s post. I’m going to bed…